by Cate Ellink
‘If that’s what you wanted. Yes.’
God.
God!
I make a noise like a hysterical fool.
‘What?’ he asks. ‘Are you okay? Have I freaked you out again?’
I make a shallow dive underwater and let the cool ocean take the heat out of my brain. I come up next to him, shaking my head.
‘Tonight, up there eating dinner.’ I wave towards the hill. ‘The waitress, who was after you a week ago, was out of the picture. Last week she flirted with you. This week, she acknowledged that she had no chance. It hit me that we’re…together.’
‘When you dropped your spoon?’
‘Yeah.’ I duck underwater again. I surface a little further from him. I still don’t feel in control. ‘I don’t understand how I can be only just working out we’re together, and you…’ I’m lost for what to say. ‘You…’ I throw my hands in the air still struggling with this words-emotions thing. ‘You’re comparing us to your long-term football contract.’
Cooper gives a short burst of laughter.
‘Come here.’ He opens his arms wide and I wade towards him. ‘You’re the most confident woman I’ve ever met in most circumstances. But talk about more than a holiday fling and you’re a basket case. Would it be so bad to be together?’
‘I don’t do relationships.’ He gives me a sceptical look and I explain further. ‘I have short flings. No-strings sex. Surely you know what I mean?’
He presses a kiss to my forehead, my eyes, each cheek and then to my mouth. ‘I know you’re worth more than that, Sam.’
My hand against his cheek, I look into his eyes. ‘Your offer is beautiful. The most gorgeous thing anyone’s ever offered. I… I’m sorry… I just can’t take you up on it.’
But I can’t leave him either. My lips press against his in a gentle touch, hopefully conveying so much more than I’m capable of with speech. Our mouths nibble and taste, before deepening to a hunger I’m more familiar with. Gasping for breath, but unable to break apart, the kiss turns to a prelude to sex. Great sex. Like we’ve always shared.
When we break apart, he lifts me up, holding me tight against the solid wall of his chest. ‘Want to head home and have sex with a condom?’
I smile and lean forward, speaking against his lips. ‘Sounds less complicated. Something I can handle.’ He swats my behind but his smile is all carnal need. I can definitely handle that.
Chapter 11
‘If we only have two days of diving left, will we see if we can do a night dive tonight?’ I ask Cooper as we’re heading to the morning dive. I don’t want there to be only a few days left but I have to face it. The holiday is coming to an end.
‘Sounds like a plan.’
At the dive shack before our morning dive, we book in. Then I think about the number of dives we’re doing.
‘Have I got too many dives? I don’t want to be flying home getting the bends.’ Even though I smile and it’s said light-heartedly, I am serious. Too many dives, too deep, and not enough time to get the nitrogen out of my bloodstream could mean trouble on the flight home.
The dive shop operator, Brian, frowns. ‘When do you fly home?’
‘Saturday.’
‘Oh, you’ll be fine. You only need 24 hours without diving. Your last dive is Wednesday night?’ Brian asks.
‘Yes. We’re climbing the mountain on Thursday but I was worried about doing so many dives.’
‘They’re only shallow. The dives today are no more than 10 metres. And tomorrow’s no more than 18 metres. We’ll have a dive computer. There’s no way I’ll compromise safety.’
I nod, reassured.
‘Haven’t you climbed the mountain before?’ Brian asks. I’ve been diving with his company every holiday, so I’m one of his regular holiday-makers.
I laugh and rest the flat of my hand on Cooper’s chest. ‘No. This time I’ve been coerced.’
Brian exchanges a look with Cooper. Some male bonding thing I guess.
‘So where are we diving this morning?’ I ask as more divers arrive. I don’t want Cooper’s coercion a topic for public discussion.
The morning and the afternoon dives are in the lagoon and filled with fish, a turtle, reef sharks, nudibranchs, lots of photos and a great dive buddy.
Quite a few divers hang around to check out our photos. A small cheer goes up. Cooper’s photo has won. Again. The other divers are enjoying our rivalry and have been voting on the photos. Hard as I try, I still can’t get a better photo than Cooper. If we pick the top ten photos, I may have four or five in there. But when we narrow it to the top three photos, I never get more than one.
‘You’re unbelievable, Coop.’
He gives that ultra-sexy grin and leans close, whispering so only I hear. ‘Do you really want to win, Sam?’
A shiver slices along my spine. I meet his gaze, the air shifts, and our stares lock. Breathing becomes difficult. I can only manage shallow gasps. I know he’s baiting me. He’s teasing, not being outright mean, but it hits a nerve.
Damn it. Do I want to win? Each time I think of it, the baby thought flashes large and luminous in my mind. But winning shouldn’t be about anything but the competition. A child is too important to be part of a game. I need to separate these thoughts, in my mind and Cooper’s.
Cooper pokes me in the ribs, whispering with some concern, ‘Come back to me, Sam.’ His look gentles, his lips soften, his hands cup my shoulders. ‘That’s better.’ He’s coaxing as if I’m a skittish animal.
Gritting my teeth, I make a show of growling loud enough so everyone hears. ‘I’ll be back to beat you tomorrow.’ It’s a competition, I can compete with the best. There’s a cheer before people leave.
Our photos are saved to a USB. We erase the memory cards on the cameras and hand them back. ‘They’ll be ready again tomorrow,’ Brian says. ‘Unless you want them tonight.’
We look at each other, eyebrows raised.
‘What kind of flash do we need for night?’ I ask.
We’re given a quick lesson on the equipment for night photography. The gear is all available for hire. ‘Let’s do it.’ Cooper’s enthusiasm is difficult to resist.
‘You’re on.’ I high-five him. ‘And may the best photo win.’
We leave to grab dinner before coming back for the night dive. Cooper’s hand wraps around mine as we’re walking. ‘Sorry I baited you back there. I wasn’t thinking.’
I shrug. There’s nothing I can say. He knows my weakness and he exploits it. It’s part of the competitive spirit. I knew it would be like this when I bared myself. Nothing I can say, or do. And he could be a whole lot nastier. ‘I know you’re competitive. I expected some stick from you. I’ll survive.’
His fingers thread between mine, his palm against mine, holding me close. We walk in silence but it’s not uncomfortable, or not terribly so. With a bit of a rueful smile, I glance across at him from the corner of my eye. His jaw’s clenched, his eyes half open, and his forehead’s creased.
I’m not getting through to him. ‘You exploited my weakness, it’s what competitors do. But our competition isn’t about a baby. We both know that. Our competition is between us. The baby issue is completely separate.’
He nods. ‘I was playing dirty and I don’t usually do that. Sorry.’ He looks shattered.
I lean close and skim my hands up his chest, over those deliciously huge shoulders and up to cup his jaw. I flick my tongue across his bottom lip. His absent smile concerns me. The worry etched into his face, with fine lines around his eyes and mouth, has me sliding my fingers across the marks, smoothing his skin.
‘Just don’t do it again.’ If he’s this concerned, he never will.
I wriggle my hips against his groin and close my lips over his. His mouth meets mine. Hot, hard and hasty. My hands slip behind his head, one curved around his skull, the other teasing his nape. My hips are confined by his hands, held still, pushed tight against his thick cock.
A muffled laug
h, then a voice breaks through the kiss-fog. ‘I thought you two were grabbing a quick dinner?’
Our kiss breaks but our body contact remains. ‘Doesn’t this count?’ I ask. Brian shakes his head, laughing as he cycles away.
Cooper shuffles my hips away from his but our hands remain holding tight. ‘We’d better eat. He won’t wait for us now he knows why we’re late.’
We eat and are back at the dive shack before the other divers, but not before Brian.
‘Please tell me you ate more than each other’s tonsils.’ He’s grinning like we’re back in high school and we’re 15-year-olds caught pashing. Then he laughs and waves his hand towards the front door. ‘I think I’m gonna call it “The Love Shack”, what do you reckon?’ He chuckles at his own joke but, fortunately for us, becomes busy with the crowd arriving.
The night dive has 10 on it, which is a fair size group for the night. Cooper and I have our gear from earlier today, we just need refilled air cylinders. We gear up quickly and then go through the camera equipment we’ve hired, familiarising ourselves with the flashes and strobes.
‘Have you done night photos before?’ I ask Cooper.
‘Nope. You?’
I shake my head.
‘So, level playing field.’
I scoff. ‘Hardly. You’re streets ahead of me.’
He looks at me with the boyishness from a week ago, not the haunted look from an hour ago, and my chest swells.
Before I can say anything more, we’re called to load up. I brush my fingers across Cooper’s and then fill my hands with equipment and walk to the boat.
The night dive is amazing. Three sleepy turtles make great photographic subjects. A couple of reef sharks, like puppy dogs, follow us around. Slumbering schools of fish hide amongst weeds or behind rocks. Shadows darken and decorate. Cooper and I jostle light-heartedly for photos. I set off my strobe light a couple of times hoping to overexpose his pictures. Not the nicest thing to do but I don’t think I’ve any hope of winning without resorting to some tricks, and he’s a good sport.
Lugging the extra lighting and laughing must use up a lot more air because the dive goes quickly. When we’re heading back to the exit point, I take a quick snap of Cooper and his three guard sharks. There’s something about the shadows, the bubbles and the intensity of Cooper’s gaze that makes me snap it for a memento.
Before making our ascent, Cooper does an elaborate mime which leaves me snorting bubbles and sucking air as laughter erupts. He wants me to pose as a pole dancer on the anchor line. I strike a few poses but pole dancing with scuba and camera gear isn’t something I imagine will take off.
When we reach the surface, I’m still spluttering, almost unable to lift the camera and lights out of the water.
‘It’s not that funny, Sam.’ Cooper helps with lifting the gear out before holding my waist while I struggle with my fins.
‘It’s ridiculous. The whole idea is insane. The photos will be crazy.’
‘More photos?’ asks one of the other divers.
‘Yes, but you don’t need to wait around for these ones.’ I don’t want people seeing my pole dancing. It was silly enough in private.
‘Oh, no, we’ll be waiting. Some of the divers from today told us about your contest. They’re coming back tonight to see the next lot of photos and vote.’
‘What?’ The tension in my voice makes the pitch increase to a level I’m not pleased about. It’s at crazy fish-wife level.
The laughter among the divers is loud and the discussions about us become fierce. Cooper helps me out of the water while I’m inwardly blustering.
‘When did this become a public vote? I thought this was between us.’ I’m ranting but I can’t stop myself. I struggle out of the dive gear, stand the air cylinder in the rack and start packing up with short sharp movements.
‘It gives people enjoyment, Sam. Don’t sweat it. They don’t know it’s anything more than a bit of fun.’
I glare at him.
‘People like us are rare, Sam. You know that. We compete hard but remain friends. It intrigues others. And they want to be involved in something, even if it’s only a minor role. They’re sports fans cheering us on. No more. You can cope with that. I know you can.’
That’s the trouble. I don’t know that I can. Triathlon isn’t a sport that attracts major fans, not like football. Cooper might be used to this sort of public involvement in his life but I’m not. I’m scared of being judged and found wanting.
Did I just think that?
Sighing deeply I muster up my courage. ‘You’re right. It’s a bit of fun. Sorry I lost perspective.’
We return to shore, clean and pack up, and then go into the dive shack for the camera download.
‘What the…?’ Cooper’s hand squeezes my shoulder when I stop in the doorway. There must be 20 people jammed into the room.
The conversations stop and a low hum of anticipation fills the air. Oxygen expels through my lips, even with my jaw clenched. Cooper gives another squeeze.
‘Here they are, our competitors, Sam and Cooper.’ Brian makes an announcement like we’re royalty entering a ball. I shake my head and laugh. There’s not a lot else to do.
We both hand over the cameras and step back to see how the shots have gone. I’m jostled as others crowd in. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. People cheering photos by amateurs.
My photos are downloaded and then Cooper’s but we don’t get to check them out first. They’re going to make a slideshow so everyone can see. Brilliant. Public anchor dancing. Can’t wait for that.
The photos are loaded and a hush falls over the crowd. A couple of nice shots of turtles snoozing. A couple of flash flares ruin some ordinary shots and Cooper gives me a smirk, as if to say he knew I was trying to ruin his shots and took poor ones on purpose. Cooper has a brilliant shot of shadowed seaweed and rock. And then another of shadowed sand and ripples. He’s made great use of the shadows and I raise my eyebrows and tip my head to him. He has an excellent eye for lighting.
Cooper’s photos finish off with a bunch of incredibly stupid but well-composed shots. They’re like the ice breakers at a party. The snaps that make people laugh. I’ll never make a pole dancer, I look much too uncomfortable. But they are fun shots and Cooper has a good eye for an angle.
More okay photos from my camera. I have a nice one of a school of sleeping fish. Then the next photo has my breath catch. Not only my breath; there’s a simultaneous gasp in the room. It’s the photo I snapped quickly, on a whim, and it’s stunning. Eight pairs of dark, shiny eyes peer from shadows, cast in a flare of illumination. The noses of the three sharks gleam, as does the edge of the mask and regulator on Cooper’s face. It could be on black and white film. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
While I’m trying to catch my breath, applause breaks out.
I’ve always heard it said that sharks have deadly flat eyes with a predatory gleam but these sharks don’t. These sharks look like they’re smiling, their eyes dark and shiny. The human has the gaze that sends prickles down my spine. A hungry, predatory gleam is in Cooper’s eyes, for everyone to see. I could kick myself. I don’t want just anyone to see that gaze, to recognise that stare.
I look at Cooper, desperately wishing I could apologise for showing his hunger to the world, but he’s laughing. There’s no resentment, only amusement and happiness. He captures my glance and bows, blowing me a kiss. I frown, but nod, not really sure what he’s trying to convey. Maybe he doesn’t see what I do in the photo.
The photo makes me feel hollow but no one else seems to be concerned. They’re all laughing and cheering, like it’s a brilliant shot.
The slideshow is done and a chant starts up around the room. It takes me a while to work out what they’re saying.
‘Eyes’ is the chant.
It’s a long minute before I work out that my photo has won.
The eyes photo appears back on the screen and a cheer goes up. Three sharks and the giant pr
edator with the hungry gaze. My heart races. I look over at Cooper and he’s grinning, seemingly unaffected by his raw hunger caught in pixels. Brian grabs my wrist and lifts my arm in victory.
‘Finally, Sam gets a win. Three cheers for Sam.’ The cheering is loud, as are the congratulations and the back-slapping. Through it all I keep looking at Cooper. He sneaks glances at me. We smile at each other, a quiet communication in the chaos that ensues.
I thought we’d kept to ourselves the last week or so. Lost in our own private world. But it seems we’ve made a lot of acquaintances with the divers at Lord Howe. Most are holiday-makers, like us, passing through. The few words exchanged before or after a dive have apparently confirmed a friendship. And that’s kind of true. Holiday friendships are easy, brought about by a mutual interest, and gone during the trip home. In other years I’ve had similar experiences when I’ve struck up holiday acquaintances with divers. This time is different. My friendship with Cooper has eclipsed all other meetings. My conversations with him have overshadowed any other conversation.
I hadn’t realised.
Or have I only pretended not to realise how close we’ve become?
I lose the thread of the conversation around me. There’s a momentary panic within me as I try to decipher these observations. If this friendship has eclipsed all others, what does that mean? Does this still end on the trip home? I can’t work it out now. It’s too noisy and the questions too hard.
Thirty minutes later, most people have left. Brian adds tonight’s photos to our USB sticks.
‘You guys have been great for business,’ he says. ‘Want to book in for next year now?’
Cooper laughs and I shake my head.
Brian grins and nudges Cooper. ‘Take her home.’
I protest but not strenuously. I’ve been waiting for Cooper to take me home. I have a little bit of pole dancing I need to practise — with no wetsuit, no scuba gear, no cameras but plenty of wet, wanting, willing woman.
Chapter 12
The next day, after the double dive out at the Admiralty Islands, with lunch on Neds Beach, we arrive at the dive shack to another crowd with hot drinks and nibblies. We don’t get more than four steps off the boat before hands reach for the cameras. Brian grins and says, ‘We thought we’d have a bit of a party for the last showdown. Some mainland news guy’s here too.’
